


This Heart of Mine

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: From the Highest Hill [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: “Michael,” Gavin whines, pawing at Michael’s arm. “Michael.”The two of them are at the coffee shop again because they’re sad fucks who don’t know any better, and Jeremy -Fuck.Jeremy’s in an old paint-splattered tank top and these equally paint-splattered jeans with rips in them and those muscles of his on display as he paints a mural for the coffee shop.





	This Heart of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Miss-ingo [mentioned a remix](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/184515476) of [The Very Thought of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984506?view_full_work=true) with Jeremavinwood, so.

“Michael,” Gavin whines, pawing at Michael’s arm. “ _Michael._ ”

The two of them are at the coffee shop again because they’re sad fucks who don’t know any better, and Jeremy - 

Fuck.

Jeremy’s in an old paint-splattered tank top and these equally paint-splattered jeans with rips in them and those muscles of his on display as he paints a mural for the coffee shop.

Ryan asked him because he wanted to brighten the place up, give it some character.

The coffee shop smells strongly of paint even though they’ve got the doors and windows open and fans going. In any other situation Michael’s sure it would have driven most of the customers away, but as it is, Jeremy has quite the appreciative audience.

Gavin makes this embarrassing little noise, and Michael looks over as he buries his face in the fur of the black cat who seems to think of Gavin as his human. 

The mural’s some kind of forest scene looking out over a meadow as the sun rises in the distance. Sections blocked out where he plants to put forest animals, little “surprises” whatever that means. 

It’s going to take a while to complete, but Gavin’s probably going to spontaneously combust before then if he keeps coming here to ogle the guy while he works.

“I know,” Michael says, as he pats Gavin’s back. “I know, Gav, I know.”

Michael’s not heartless, knows how rough this is on him because Jeremy, okay. Guy clearly works out and it shows, and Jesus Christ, it’s a nice sight. 

One that only gets better when Ryan ambles over to Jeremy. This grin on his face as he talks to Jeremy who is up on a short ladder to reach the top of the wall. 

He’s actually taller than Ryan at the moment, and Jeremy has to be getting a kick out of it when he grins down at Ryan. Hooking a foot around under a step for balance as he leans down and kisses Ryan, and Michael - 

Shit.

_Shit_.

“Michael?”

Michael looks over to see Gavin watching him, frown between his eyes. All soft and worried, hand reaching for Michael as the cat hops off his lap with a little annoyed noise.

“I gotta go,” Michael says. 

He’s supposed to go to Geoff’s for a Netflix marathon later. But he and Gavin have been so busy recently they’ve barely seen each other and Gavin wanted to grab a coffee so they could say they’d at least seen each other more than just in passing.

Except now Michael’s having some kind of realization and it’s not. 

_It’s not even porn-worthy._

It’s just. The sight of Jeremy’s happy little smile, the chaste _why, hello there_ press of the lips between Jeremy and Ryan, and suddenly Michael’s brain is like _goodness gracious, that certainly is lovely isn’t it?_ the same way it does when he he falls hard for someone.

Christ.

“You're good from here?” Michael asks, because even in the middle of some kind of awakening he’s not that asshole. “You’re sure Meg’s coming to get you for your makeover party or whatever the fuck you guys are doing?”

Gavin looks concerned, but in light of Michael’s desperate deflection, lets it slide.

“What? Yes, you nob, and it’s not a makeover party, Michael.”

No, no. Never that.

Michael knows it’s just Meg hiring Gavin for a cosplay shoot with her and Lindsay, but he knows how those end up, alright? Knows that by the end of it Meg and Lindsay are going to sweet talk Gavin into letting them try out some new makeup or face paint design on him. 

Will style his hair and pamper the fuck out of him, giggling and laughing as he feigns protest because he’s so easy for them. Lets them dress him up in “some old thing” they have laying around, like they didn’t plan on Gavin being a pushover for them the whole damn time.

Like he won’t come home with glitter in his hair and more dusting his cheeks. Looking like some kind of ethereal being because they can never resist and Gavin never tells them no, and Jesus fucking _Christ_ , now is not the time to be thinking about that.

“Great,okay, bye!” Michael says, and ducks in to press a kiss to Gavin’s mouth before he realizes what he’s doing. Sees Gavin’s wide eyes, mouth open to ask what the hell _that_ was about - and books it out of there as fast as he can because he’s clearly lost his goddamned mind.

========

Gavin, the fucker, texts him a picture of Jeremy and Ryan looking towards the door – presumably after the spectacle Michael made of himself- with these _concerned_ looks on their faces and a strings of question marks after it because the asshole knows Michael too damn well.

========

Michael’s relationship with Gavin is complicated in the way it isn’t, which confuses everyone but them on a regular basis.

There aren’t any rules to it, is the the thing. 

Nothing concrete, solid, for anyone to get a grasp of, some better understanding because things have always just been easy with Gavin. 

They meshed well from the beginning, somehow able to understand each other without even trying, cultural differences notwithstanding. Michael's always appreciated that when everything else in his life was a confused mess.

There was never a moment where they sat down to talk about things when they started dating the first time. No moment where they made the decision to go from friends to boyfriends or lovers or whatever term people wanted to use for what they were, it just happened without them realizing. 

Gavin pressing a kiss to his cheek when he got home from class one afternoon and Michael turning his head to catch Gavin’s lips. The easy slide from friends to something more like it was inevitable. This addition to their relationship that didn’t fundamentally change anything between them, and Michael had never given much thought to how unusual the whole thing was.

When they “broke up” a year later there was no drama surrounding things, just the two of them realizing it had been awhile since they'd so much as kissed, let alone had sex. 

Gavin waking Michael up in the middle of the night, frown on his face as he kissed Michael and his quiet little _”Huh,”_ afterward. 

There was nothing wrong with the kiss. It had been nice, familiar in the way they knew each other and nothing complicated to it. 

Certainly unwelcome, but not much else to it, really. Nothing like there had been with the first kiss and the one after that and all the ones that followed until they just petered off.

Michael’s sleepy smirk and, _”You saying I don’t get you going anymore, asshole?”_ followed by Gavin’s squeaky laughter before curling up beside him to go back to sleep until their alarms were set to go off a few hours later.

He knew most of their friends hadn’t known what to make of it at the time, baffled at the way Michael and Gavin just went on about their lives like nothing had changed.

Gavin playing wing-man to Michael at parties and vice versa, and everyone but them expecting some kind of delayed reaction to set in. For accusations to go flying, furious, betrayed yelling or who the fuck knows, but none of it ever came to be.

And then they’d gotten back together after that for a few weeks, until they weren’t, and so on and so on. 

It’s not sordid or unhealthy and fucked up the way some people looking in from the outside seem to think it is, it’s just the way the two of them fit together, and it - 

It works.

It works because Michael's Michael and Gavin’s Gavin and it’s easy to slide into each other's beds from time to time. Sweet smiles and gentle touches and this unbreakable _thing_ between them.

Never when they’re in a relationship with someone else because _that_ is a rule they have others can see and understand, even if it’s always gone unspoken between the two of them. (Some things you just don’t do, and that’s one of them.)

It’s caused trouble in the past, this thing of theirs. Significant others who didn’t understand that Michael and Gavin are just _MichaelandGavin_ no matter the turn their relationship takes. Couldn’t reconcile Michael and Gavin’s past relationship to their current one and how they fit into things, through no fault of their own.

Michael doesn’t know any other way to explain it than it just being _them_ , but it always makes Geoff’s day when he does try because he’s one of the few who actually understands.

“Jesus Christ, dude, stop,” Geoff gasps, face split wonky ear to wonky ear with the force of his grin, dumb hyena laugh filling his living room. “Just fucking stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“ _Geoff_ ,” Michael says, because this is – it’s important,okay? 

Real fucking important.

Gavin’s got the hots for Jeremy, who has the hots for Ryan (and is totally getting some because loving boyfriends and shit). Michael has the hots for Ryan, who has the hots for Jeremy (totally boning), and now Michael thinks he might also have the hots for Jeremy, and – _fuck_.

It’s a mess. ( _Michael’s_ a mess.)

Because here’s the thing.

Michael likes Ryan a whole hell of a lot. The guy's smart and kind and funny. Unbelievably gorgeous, and he’s just. He’s great, okay? Ryan’s fucking great, but he’s also fucking _Jeremy_ , which is only a problem for Michael, and he is dealing with it in his usual pathetic way. (Michael tends to get these hopeless little crushes, and it sucks, okay.)

He’ll fall hard for someone so far out of his league it’s not funny. Or he’ll fall for someone in a relationship with someone else, and Michael’s not the kind of asshole to begrudge someone their own happiness because he’s got the bad luck to fall for them, no.

He’s dealing with this Ryan thing, because he likes Ryan as a friend too much to want to risk fucking things up between them. He’s been making ground on that side of things, but then he actually met Jeremy, and he likes the guy, he does.

Jeremy’s this amazing ball of talent, total package and all that shit. And he’s sweet, too. All humble and shit, and he’s real soft on Gavin, the two of them getting up to mischief all the damn time. 

Ryan likes Gavin too, Michael knows. Is one of the only people who doesn’t just humor Gavin when he brings up his ridiculous questions and hasn’t killed Gavin even though the little shit keeps bringing up the Coin Argument just to fuck with him. 

And there’s this thing about Gavin, okay. This thing that has Michael bristling whenever someone looks sideways at him, Dismissing him as an idiot because he can’t explain things properly when he does pose his questions. Sounds like a moron sometimes, but he’s so fucking smart it’s a little alarming, really. 

The fact that Ryan and Jeremy both like Gavin for being his fucking weird self will always earn points with Michael.

Michael feels Geoff’s hand in his hair, clever old man fingers knowing the best spots to massage to get Michael’s brain to go offline for a bit. (The booze Michael drank before this helps though, he’s pretty sure, even if that was hours ago and he can feel the world coming back into focus, bit by bit.)

“I know buddy,” Geoff says, still too fucking amused, but it’s a quieter sort now. 

All soft edges that are definitely Jack’s doing because God knows Geoff was a mess until they sorted their shit out.

He says as much, words slurring just the tiniest bit while Geoff, the sober bastard, just looks amused.

“Hey,” Geoff says mildly as he raps the top of Michael’s head with his knuckles. “Fuck off, asshole.”

Michael snorts looking up at him and realizes that pretty much all of his relationships with his friends are complicated in the simplest, best way, and it’s fucking great.

None of this bullshit he grew up seeing. The kind where guys like them were freaks or whatever for being touchy feely and cuddling for the hell of it. Nothing gross or sexual about it. (No offense to Geoff, but _no_ , Jack’s free to have that all to himself.)

Just.

_Geoff_.

The worst kind of asshole with a big fucking heart and always willing to listen to idiots like him bemoan their (nonexistent and yet somehow incredibly complicated) love life while they marathon some show on Netflix.

Geoff turns when the front door to his apartment opens and Jack’s voice reaches them, along with the smell of pizza. 

Michael’s stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud, which sets Geoff off again. His cackling catching Jack’s attention and Michael flails, hand snagging Geoff’s shirt when the fucker tries to dump him on the floor, dragging him down with him.

It’s a mess of Michael’s uncoordinated limbs and Geoff’s old man frail bones clashing before Jack clears his throat.

“Geoff,” he says, and Michael sighs at the amusement tucked in there with the heartbroken boyfriend discovering his loved one cheating on him with the neighbor. “If you’re going to cheat on me could you be less obvious about it?”

Michael gives the fuck up and goes limp. So fucking done with everything as Geoff scrambles to his feet and goes to Jack, babbling nonsense he picked up from his terrible television show viewing habits.

All overblown melodrama about how Jack’s the only man for him and that Michael never meant anything to him - 

“Fuck you Geoff, I’m the best you never had!”

\- and please, please, please just give him another chance, he’ll be so good to Jack, and then he scurries off to the kitchen for pizza, because he’s Geoff.

Michael closes his eyes because the room’s spinning just the tiniest bit. When he opens them again Jack standing over him, mouth quirked in a small smile.

“Michael.” 

Michael smiles back, because it’s got to be illegal not to when Jack’s smiling like that. All kind and benevolent forest god come down from his mountain hideaway to bless the puny mortals with his presence because they’re his favorite idiot race.

“Jack.”

“If you want any pizza you better hurry before Geoff shoves it all in his face.”

Michael groans, accepting the hand Jack holds out to him as he gets to his feet, grateful for Jack and his solid presence as he leans on him for a moment before his brain stops rolling around in his head and the world rights itself.

“Good?”

Michael nods, because there’s just something comforting about Jack in spite of the fact the man’s worse than all of them put together when it comes to being an asshole. 

Like. 

Stealth, about it, letting you make all these assumptions on him based on that placid front he puts on before springing the trap. All _“Surprise, motherfucker!”_ and wheezing about it when you realize the horrible mistake you’ve made in befriending him.

“Considering, yeah,” Michael says, and flashes him a grin. “Sorry for trying to steal your man.”

Jack rolls his eyes as Geoff’s incomprehensible screeching from the other room. 

Something about pizza and orgasms? Or maybe it’s that the pizza is so good it’s orgasmic? (Who fucking knows with Geoff.)

“At this point,” Jack say, “you can fucking have him.”

Jesus Christ, no.

Michael will take his stupid complicated mess of a (nonexistent and yet somehow incredibly complicated) love life over Geoff any day.

“Uh, fuck no,” Michael says. He’s not that far gone just yet. “Jesus no.”

Jack sighs, because his life is just the worst, isn’t it, and throws an arm over Michael's shoulder as they head to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” 

========

Geoff, because he’s a dick, texts Michael a couple of pictures later that night.

Diagrams with hands that have been scratched off in the first one. The second one shows the hands holding each other with badly superimposed text Geoff added. 

_It doesn’t have to be like this. Michael has two hands._

Michael’s frowning at that, and then his phone dings with a new text and a picture that’s terrible enough for Geoff to have drawn himself. Michael deletes the moment his eyes land on it because fucking Christ.

The next message must have been delayed, but Michael knows what it’s going to say, based on Geoff’s crude drawing.

_And a dick._

Jesus _Christ_.

========

Michael wakes up to cool fingers in his hair slipping down to cup his cheek, and he knows it’s Gavin even before he opens his eyes. (Fucking better be, really, or Michael’s going to call the fucking cops.)

“Gav?”

“Hey, boi,” Gavin says, grin in his voice as he sits on the bed next to him.

Michael squints at the bedside clock, which doesn't exactly shit for him without his glasses, so that’s awesome. (Also, those beers he threw back at Geoff’s are being a bitch.)

“What time is it?” he asks, taking the glass of water and aspirin Gavin hands him.

Gavin shrugs, fingers back in Michael’s hair massaging his scalp just so, and he sighs, eyes closing of their own accord.

“You want to tell me what that was all about, before?” Gavin asks, keeping his voice light, nonchalant. “You ran out in a hurry, boi. Ryan and Jeremy were worried something was wrong.”

Michael turns his head to press his face against his pillow and sighs. 

He knew this was coming, knew Gavin would want to know what the hell had gotten into him, but he’d been hoping the asshole would wait until he was awake. (Wasn’t regretting the beers at Geoff’s, or just about everything ever.)

“Big gay panic?” he says, voice muffled by the pillow as Gavin goes from massaging with the pads of his fingers to scratching very, very lightly with his nails, and bites back a groan because that’s fucking _cheating_. 

“Really,” Gavin says, and fucking _stops_ , fingers still in Michael’s hair but just. Just sitting there, because he’s an asshole. “Thought you said you covered that bit back in high school.”

Michael growls, rolling over to face Gavin who’s this big, blurry, infuriatingly _smug_ lump next to him.

“Fuck off,” Michael says, and gropes toward the nightstand for his glasses, only for Gavin to hand them to him with this quiet laugh as he turns the lamp on.

When he puts his glasses on the world snaps back in focus, and Gavin’s just as irritatingly smug. 

More so, maybe, because Michael can make out every annoying line and curve of his face. The odd angles of his nose and the slightly less ridiculous ones of his jaw. The way they’ve all been highlighted with the makeup and face paint he’s still wearing.

Subtle gradients and markings around his eyes, and it’s striking as anything they decide on ever is. 

Meg has an eye for this kind of thing and Lindsay’s odd way of looking at the world the way so close to the way Gavin does complements her skill to create something truly stunning.

“You look like a fucking raccoon.”

Gavin pouts at him, peering at Michael through his eyelashes. 

The girls went all out because Gavin has to be wearing mascara. No way his eyelashes are naturally that long and thick without Michael noticing before now.

“Aww, Michael. They worked so hard on it this time too, don’t be mean.”

Michael snorts, reluctant smile pulling at his lips. Gavin’s not horrifically ugly, and Meg and Lindsay know what they’re doing. 

“S’nice,” he admits, laughing at the way Gavin bats his eyes coyly at him.

“Thanks, Michael boi,” he says, and then pokes at Michael until he moves over to make room for Gavin to lay down next to him, turning the lamp off as he does.

He can hear Gavin humming next to him. This fine thread of tension running through him almost overlaid by the air of Relaxed and Content he’s trying so hard to project.

Michael could take the out he’s giving him here. The option to pretend they weren’t on the cusp of having a Talk, but it’s not fair to Gavin.

“So.” Michael has no damn idea how to explain himself even though he’s had time to think things over. “Jeremy.”

Gavin makes this little encouraging noise, and Michael feels like a shitty friend because he knows how gone for him Gavin is, and yet here he is, listening to Michael be an idiot about his own crush.

“He’s not bad looking?” Michael says, turning it into a question. 

When Gavin presses closer, line of warmth against his side and this wordless comfort and reassurance, Michael keeps talking,lets go of the the worry he’s been holding on to all day as he gains confidence. Fumbles his way through an explanation. The realization that he liked Ryan _and_ Jeremy, and how fucked he was because it’s not like he could do anything about it with the way things were, and just. 

“Y’know,” Michael says with a tired little laugh. “Just me being real fucking stupid.”

Michael kissing Gavin out of the blue because that’s a safe thing to want, to ask for because this thing between them is easy like that. No fear that it’s something Gavin would hate him for, or treat him differently for needing. 

Gavin shifts around until he’s looking at Michael, this fond little smile on his face.

“Geoff texted me,” he says. “Sent me these pictures? One of them was a drawing he did and I’m still trying to forgot I ever saw it.”

Gavin shudders at the memory, but the dumb smile on his face tells Michael it’s for his benefit.

“Yeah?” Michael says, and reaches out to run his fingers across the face paint at the corner of Gavin’s eye, follows it down to his jaw. “What did you think about it?”

Because Geoff’s smart, knew if what Michael wanted was in reach Gavin would have to be part of it. That Michael couldn’t leave him out if he wanted, which he never would. 

Gavin leans into his touch, pleased little noise in the back of his throat.

“Sounded lovely, Michael,” he says this _want_ in his voice that hits Michael hard in light of all the thinking Michael did today, and that - 

Look.

Michael’s great at wanting things he can’t have sometimes. Real fucking talented at that, but he’s not so blind, stupid, that he misses what’s right in front of him.

“C’mere, idiot,” Michael says, and Gavin smiles at him as he scoots closer, this slow, happy little thing that always warms Michael's heart to see it, know he has a hand in causing.

And then they’re kissing like it’s the easiest thing in the world and it’s good, it is, because Gavin’s in the same boat as he is, stupid bastards that they are. But that’s okay, it’s fine, because they have each other and that counts for a whole hell of a lot in the end.

========

Things are little easier after that, hurt a little less.

Crisis resolved, doubts and insecurities addressed, and a happy, loving relationship for all involved. That whole happily ever after bullshit, except you know, where they’re Michael and Gavin are both idiots. (Can’t win ‘em all.)

“Bloody hell,” Gavin sighs, chin on his forearms as he watches Jeremy stretch out the kinks in his back after working on a section of the mural. 

The black cat’s curled around Gavin’s shoulders and purring up a storm, and Michael, okay.

Michael is only slightly better off because he’s actually studying. Has a test in two days worth a hefty chunk of his grade and he’d like to be able to get a better than passing grade if possible.

Gavin’s just.

Vegetating, really.

Playing with the cats and scarfing down coffee and pastries and giving his brain a rest after delivering a presentation that he’s been working on for weeks. 

The fact that it also gives him to chance ogle Jeremy, and occasionally Ryan when he wanders by is just a bonus for him. (Michael has no fucking idea how he missed the way Gavin looks at Ryan before now. Gets this appreciative little curl to his mouth when the man smiles at them.)

Michael snorts at the look on Gavin’s face, almost as blissed out as his furry little passenger.

“Way to be obvious,” he says, but it’s not like Gavin’s the only one staring.

The coffee shop’s drawn in a certain level of clientele since Jeremy started on the mural. Always a good crowd in there, enough to keep things lively, and Ryan and Jeremy completely oblivious as to why business has suddenly picked up because they’re just that dense.

“It’s like - ” Gavin yawns mid-sentence, this wide, jaw-cracking thing that the cat on his shoulders copies perfectly. “ - positive reinforcement or something, innit?”

In Gavin’s mind, it probably is. 

Work his ass off for some dumb presentation and get rewarded for all of it not only with a good grade, but getting to watch Jeremy and his glorious muscles. Get treated to Ryan’s smile and a cup of coffee and all the cats he can snuggle.

“Sure,” Michael says, and lets Gavin have this because it’s not hurting anyone.

========

It’s like something out of a movie. One of those shitty made for television ones with godawful writing and acting and everything really, because - 

“Uh-oh.” 

Ryan’s laughing, this sheepish, incredulous thing because the two of them are locked in the tiny walk-in cooler in the back of the coffee shop.

Michael doesn’t fucking know, okay, because it’s ass o’clock in the morning with just the two of them in the shop. Ryan asking for his help to move something back here, and the doorstop getting kicked out of place without either of them realizing it until it was too late. The broken latch that only opens from the outside now, and Jesus _Christ_.

“I probably should have gotten the door fixed,” Ryan mutters to himself, which.

Yeah. That would have been great, because they're locked in here and Michael’s phone is on the counter on the other side of the door. Ryan didn't even remember to bring his and they’re going to fucking die in here, aren't they. 

Freeze to death like something out of a bad movie and goddamn, what even is Michael’s luck these days?

Jeremy’s not supposed to be at the coffee shop for a couple of hours, and they don’t get a lot of customers this early in the morning on the weekends, so.

“I mean, yeah,” Micheal says, blowing on his hands to keep them warm. “That’s definitely a thing you could have done.”

Apparently he hadn’t, even with Jeremy reminding him about it just the other day, so, you know.

Ryan gives him this look, and it’s - 

“We’re going to die in here, you do not fucking get to look at me like that,” Michael says.

He’s going for stern and failing miserably because Ryan looks very apologetic about this. All sad eyes and this little downturn to his mouth, and fucking seriously.

“Nah,” Ryan says, because he’s an idiot. “The worst we’ll get is maybe some hypothermia. Just a little! We'll be fine until Jeremy comes in to let us out.”

Reassuring.

“I’m really very sorry about this,” Ryan says, like that makes up for their ridiculously embarrassing deaths, but whatever. “Really.”

“Well then, in that case,” Michael says. “All is forgiven.”

Ryan laughs as he empties a couple of cardboard boxes and breaks them down before setting the flattened cardboard on the ground. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

Ryan nudges the cardboard in front of the shelves facing the door and sits down, making a show of getting as comfortable as he’s likely to get in here.

“It’s comfy down here.”

Michael gives him a look, but Ryan remains undaunted. Just smiles at Michael and pats the cardboard again like it’s the best seat in the place.

“I can’t believe you,” Michael says, but Ryan’s little nest is more appealing than just standing around like a moron, so he shuffles over to join him.

He’s seen movies like this before. The aforementioned terrible made for television kind and the slightly less terrible ones that make it to the big screen. There’s always that moment where someone suggests they huddle for warmth, and right on cue Ryan clears his throat awkwardly.

“We should probably think about heat conservation.”

Michael slants a look at him.

Ryan gives him a winning smile, all good old boy from down on the farm who never meant him any harm, and it’s kind of exhausting, to be honest.

“Yeah?” 

Michael snorts when Ryan scoots closer, but not too close. Not yet. Respecting his boundaries and shit.

“Well, I mean,” Ryan says, and this close, Michael can _feel_ his voice, that little rumble when his voice dips lower for a moment. “Science.”

That.

Jesus, the man’s an idiot.

“Shut up, Ryan,” Michael says, and bridges the distance between them, bumping his shoulder against Ryan’s.

They're probably going to freeze to death in here, if they don’t run out of air first, and Michael's not going to lie when he says he never expected to go out this way. (Who the fuck would?) 

“We’ll be fine,” Ryan says, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders to pull him closer. “Trust me.”

Michael grumbles, more out of principle than anything else because it’s cold in here, sure, but it’s not a fucking freezer. Ryan’s right that they’re not going to die from the cold, but it’s going to be unpleasant until Jeremy lets them out of here. 

Really, really unpleasant, and also potentially embarrassing because Ryan and the touching and his _voice_. Ryan spinning story after stupid story about the shenanigans he and Jeremy used to get up to before they became (somewhat) respectable business owners.

Which.

“Please,” Michael says, grin tugging at his lips. “Neither of you are respectable anythings.”

Ryan laughs, and this whole mess is undoing all the progress Michael’s made in not being a creepy fuck. The kind of guy who doesn’t understand the concept of no, even if they’ve never talked about this. Never got to the point where Michael told Ryan that hey, he’s interested in him as more than friends because it’s painfully clear he and Jeremy are a _Thing_ , capital ‘T’.

Sweethearts from way back, and still a sickeningly happy, lovey-dovey couple who only have eyes for each other. Michael’s been good, been so fucking good about things because he doesn’t want to lose either of their friendships.

Ryan gives him a concerned look when Michael shivers at the thought of it, because they’re amazing people. Understand Michael and Gavin on a level he hadn’t expected them too even before they started to do the dating thing again.

“Are you okay?” 

Michael closes his eyes because Ryan’s voice is this terrible thing sometimes, and Michael’s a weak bitch.

“I’m great,” he says, and ignores the way it comes out so damn tired. “Never been better.”

He can feel Ryan watching him. Too damn smart for anyone’s good and then he sighs. Pulls Michael in even closer and rests his chin on the top of Michael’s head because heat conservation or some shit, Michael doesn’t fucking know. 

“Hey,” Ryan says, a little too cheerfully. “Did I ever tell you about the time Jeremy set a bar on fire this one time?”

That.

No, but Michael honestly isn’t surprised.

“Do tell,” he says, grateful for the change of subject and new material to give Jeremy shit over later.

========

In a twist of fate, or luck, or whatever the hell you want to call it, Jeremy comes in early. Bangs around the coffee shop for a bit before he notices the two idiots yelling at him from inside the walk-in cooler.

“What the actual fuck happened here?” 

Michael and Ryan are cold as fuck, but more or less okay. They weren’t trapped in refrigerated hell for more than an hour, an hour and a half at most. They just need to warm up and rest for a bit and they’ll be fine really, don’t look at them like that, Jeremy _Mr. Pyromaniac_ Dooley.

“Uh, no,” Jeremy says, and calls Gavin to rat them out because he’s an asshole.

He makes a sign for any customers who might show up telling them the coffee shop is closed for the day. Tapes it up on the door and pulls the blinds down to give them a little more privacy.

Gavin shows up not too long afterward with his arms full of blankets, and joins Jeremy in fussing over Michael and Ryan like little old grannies. Tutting and tsking and _worried_ , this look in their eyes that has Michael and Ryan submitting to their tender mercies with minimal protest.

Gavin keeps sneaking looks at Ryan. Clearly wants to go over and check on him too, but Jeremy’s got Ryan covered. Sitting next to him with their arms touching, heads bent together as they talk quietly.

He’s not quite wringing his hands because Gavin isn’t a frail Maiden Of Olde, but it’s enough for Michael to reach out and take them in his. 

“Hey,” he says, when Gavin looks at him, all the things that could have gone wrong in his eyes. “Your hair looks fucking stupid.”

Crazy bed hair sticking up all over the place, and he’s wearing one of Michael's old shirts over a pair of sweats. Slippers jammed on his feet and just an overall disaster, and Michael _still_ thinks he’s not terrible to look at. 

Gavin opens his mouth to say something, maybe tell Michael that now isn’t the time for jokes, but then he deflates with this little sigh.

“Didn’t have time to primp,” he says, so much more in what he leaves unsaid.

Michael sets his the coffee Jeremy foisted on him aside and pulls Gavin in for a hug because they could both use one, it seems. He catches Jeremy watching them with this odd look on his face before he turns back to Ryan.

A little odd, sure, but given the situation, Michael doesn’t give it too much thought.

========

Ryan gets the walk-in cooler’s door fixed, and life goes on after their little not-so-close call like normal. 

Except, you know, the bit where Gavin and Jeremy are very clearly conspiring together.

He can hear Ryan rummaging under the counter doing something, muttering to himself about where he put this thing or that thing, and did Jeremy move it again?

It’s weirdly endearing, because Ryan is a lunatic.

“Hey, Ryan,” Michael asks, all casual and nonchalant as he eyes the two idiots in question. They’re laughing about something in a dark corner of the coffee shop like that’s not suspicious. “Do you have life insurance?”

Ryan’s head pops up over the counter like some kind of demented gopher.

“...What?”

Michael shrugs, eyebrows lifting as Jeremy _cackles_ at something Gavin said.

“No reason.”

It’s not like Michael actually believes Gavin and Jeremy are plotting their gruesome murders in order to collect on their respective life insurance benefits and all, just.

They’re not bothering to hide how obvious they are. Making a beeline for one another the moment they’re in the same room together. And looking over their shoulders as though they’re worried about being overheard.

Suspicious as hell, and if Michael had any fucks left to give, he’d be more worried about things. 

========

“Those two are planning something.”

A week later and Gavin and Jeremy are still thick as thieves, but it seems as though Ryan’s finally noticed.

“You don’t say,” Michael says, chin in his hand as he watches Ryan break this little mystery down piece by piece.

Probably wants to make a murder board, get all organized about it. Stick pins in it to mark last known locations the two were seen colluding. Attach strings to it and shit like on all those police procedural shows. 

Ryan gives him this look, like he knows Michael is being a little shit about this, but fucking seriously. He tried to bring it up before and Ryan was completely oblivious. 

Just let Michael have his fun before he dies under mysterious circumstances.

“You mentioned something about life insurance?” Ryan says, but he’s laughing a little as he does because Jeremy’s just grabbed Gavin in a headlock and both of them are laughing like idiots, so.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael says. “I’m sure they’re not going to cut the brake lines on our cars or slip cyanide in our drinks or anything like that at all.”

No, if those two are plotting their untimely demises, it’s going to be something unbelievably stupid or involving explosions. (Or both, really.)

========

“Well, this is familiar.”

Michael glares at Ryan, who seems oddly baffled that they’ve somehow found themselves locked in the walk-in freezer. 

Again.

“I thought you got the door fixed.”

Ryan tugs on the handle, but the door doesn’t budge.

And then Gavin’s face pops up in the little window, manic grin on his face and Jesus fucking Christ, did he lock them in here on purpose?

“ _Gavin!_ ”

Gavin mimes talking on his phone just as Michael’s phone dings with a new message.

Michael doesn’t check it, and Gavin gets this little frown on his face that Michael knows all too well. It’s the one he gets when Michael isn’t playing whatever little game he’s set up, isn’t falling for his bullshit and Gavin feels the need to up the ante.

He doesn’t know what the fuck Gavin’s thinking doing this, but Michael pounds on the the door for the asshole to let them out, and almost – almost – misses the sound of Ryan’s text notification going off behind him.

He sees movement behind Gavin, flash of purple – Jeremy? - and then -

“’It doesn’t have to be like this,’ Ryan reads, this odd little note in his voice that has dread pooling in Michael's gut.

When he looks up, Gavin’s gone and there’s no sign of Jeremy either.

It’s just Michael and Ryan and that fucking text that Geoff sent to Michael and Gavin all that time ago. The one that little shit must have sent to Michael just now, and then Ryan when Michael didn't check his phone like he was supposed to.

Jesus fuck, what the hell is Gavin thinking doing that? The two of them are one thing, one really fucking bizarre thing, but Ryan’s happy with Jeremy and vice versa and Michael’s happy for them and Gavin is too and they could have gone on like that indefinitely and things would have been...okay.

Ryan’s never shown any sign that he’s interested in Michael or Gavin and neither has Jeremy. Pipe dreams, and all that.

“’Michael has two hands’,” Ryan’s saying, and Michael can imagine the little head tilt that goes with that tone of voice perfectly.

Michael sighs, resting his head against the cold metal of the door, because the next part of Geoff’s text is the worst. He snorts when he hears Ryan’s choked little cough, but doesn’t turn to look at him. Doesn’t think he can, really. 

“I - “ Ryan clears his throat, awkward sound Michael knows too damn well. “Michael, what is this?”

The traitorous part of Michael that’s always held out hope that maybe, maybe, there’s a chance for them somewhere, swears there’s something in Ryan’s voice that sounds almost hopeful.

Michael wrestles it back down and turns to face Ryan.

He doesn’t look mad or disgusted, although Michael hadn’t really expected him to because Ryan’s not a close-minded asshole.

“It’s - “ 

Nothing, Michael wants to say. 

Just up and lie and tell him it’s one of Geoff’s shitty jokes that got out of hand. That Gavin’s being an asshole for the hell of it, but he can’t. Not with the way Ryan’s looking at him, not with the ugly little knot of hurt and want and guilt in his throat.

But Michael can’t look at Ryan for this either, too much of a coward even now that Gavin’s forced his – their – hand.

“I like you,” Michael says, and hurries to say the next part before Ryan interrupts, misunderstands what he’s trying to say. “As in I _like_ -like you.”

He takes a breath to steady his nerves.

“But I like-like Jeremy too.”

There’s this little pause, as Ryan processes that. The sound of him shifting his weight.

“What about Gavin?” Ryan asks, quiet, and so, so careful. “I thought the two of you were...dating?”

It’s hard sometimes, Michael knows, for their friends to know what’s going on between Michael and Gavin. This back and forth that changes at the slightest whim sometimes. Shift in the wind and they’re off sucking each other’s faces, a strong breeze and they’re back to being the bromance of the century.

Michael shoots a look at the door, lip curling. 

“Not for much longer,” he says, growl to his words because he’s really going to kill Gavin this time.

“Michael.”

Michael feels...tired.

Just. 

So damn tired.

It took him a long time to realize it’s never been jealousy when it comes to Ryan and Jeremy, just this low, steady want pulling at him. They’re gorgeous, and good, and things Michael wasn’t mean to have. And he’d made peace with that, thought Gavin had made his, too. That they could be with each other and not feel like they were just...settling. (They’re MichaelandGavin and that’s always been more than enough.) 

“What do you want me to say, Ryan?” Michael asks, because he just doesn’t know anymore. “You’re happy with Jeremy, and he’s happy with you. I’m glad that’s how it is, you know? You two deserve to be happy and shit.”

Get married one day if that’s what they want, and everything else that goes along with their happily ever after. 

“I’m sorry if this is - I don’t know, too weird for you or whatever, but it’s not like I was ever going to do anything about it, okay? I don’t want to be some kind of fucked up homewrecker.”

Michael swallows, words coming harder because he’s being good, doing the right thing even though though it sucks.

“I get if you don’t want to be friends or whatever after this.“ Too weird, some part of Ryan always wondering if Michael’s friends with him because he wants to be friends, or because he thinks he can somehow finagle his way into Ryan's pants and his bed. “It’s. Weird.”

It’s weird and stupid under it all because Michael’s dumb heart, and dumber brain.

He can’t pin this on Gavin because he’s hurting too. Hides it better than Michael does with the shit he pulls, but Michael’s known him a long time now. Knows how he gets when it comes to the important things like this.

“Just like that,” Ryan says, flat, toneless.

Michael looks at Ryan because he needs to know Michael’s serious.

“Just like that.”

Ryan cocks his head to the side, and Michael knows that little gesture. Gives ground when Ryan moves towards him, but there’s nowhere to go with the door at his back and Gavin and Jeremy somewhere on the other side.

“Ryan - “

“Jeremy told me,” Ryan says, all up in Michael’s face, and sometimes Michael forgets the height he has on him, just how big Ryan is. “Said I must be blind to not notice the way you look at me sometimes.”

He frowns, eyes flicking to the window set in the door before looking back at Michael.

“The way Gavin does.”

Something about the way he say that, says Gavin’s name, has Michael pushing forward. Forcing Ryan back a half-step.

Break his heart, sure. Do whatever he wants with it, but _Gavin_ \- 

Ryan’s expression cracks, softens at whatever must be on Michael’s face.

“I thought he was mistaken,” Ryan says, quiet, soft. This note to his voice that Michael can’t figure out, and he falters. “I thought he was just seeing something he – we – wanted to see.”

That - 

“What?”

Ryan smiles, this soft little thing as he looks at Michael.

“We like-like you two idiots as well,” he says, this blush high up on his cheeks. “But you started dating Gavin, and I didn’t _see_.”

That seems to be a problem that’s going around, doesn’t it.

“Huh.”

Michael doesn’t know what to do with this, really. Wants to trust that Ryan means it, but it just seems too easy, whatever that means.

Convenient and too good to be true.

Ryan lifts a hand, carefully watching Michael as he cups his face, eyes searching his.

“You do have two hands,” Ryan says, corner of his mouth ticking up, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And a - “

“Swear to God, Ryan, if you finish that sentence - “

Michael doesn’t know what he’ll do, but it’ll be something, okay? Because even now Ryan’s an asshole, and it’s reassuring in the oddest way. Lets Michael know that whatever happens that at least that will stay the same.

Ryan laughs, and it’s nice, it’s _good_ , Michael melting into his touch. 

That _want_ front and center where Ryan can see, and he’s not. He’s not looking away from it, little glimmers of his own want in his eyes, the hand on Michael’s face, and Michael thinks it could be something if they try, the four of them.

Sit down and talk things out, lay their cards on the table and see how things play out.

“Why do I have the feeling Gavin set us up?” Ryan asks, hand dropping away from Michael’s face as he looks at the door. 

That much is fucking obvious, isn’t it. The little shit trapping them in here and sending Ryan those stupid texts. Forcing them to talk about things without being able to run from it.

“I think I saw Jeremy out there too,” Michael says.

The way Gavin and Jeremy have been acting recently makes a terrible sort of sense now. Especially if Jeremy picked up on the pining Michael and Gavin have been doing over these assholes. 

Saw it and confronted Gavin about it – or maybe it was the other way around because Gavin can be patient when he wants, but there are times he gets allover reckless and does the stupidest things. (Once in a while they pan out, go his way because Gavin’s one of the luckiest people Michael’s ever met.)

“Really.”

Michael looks at Ryan, sees the little tilt to his head, and then Ryan’s moving past him to the door. 

Locked from the outside, or it was, but now the handle gives under Ryan’s hand easy as anything.

“Fucking hell,” Michael mutters, when Ryan gives him this look. “Those _fuckers_.”

========

It’s not easy, this thing with the four of them. Not the way Michael's thing with Gavin is, but it’s worth it. 

Definitely worth it when Ryan smiles at him just so, warmth and affection and this wonder to like _Ryan_ can’t believes he’s this lucky.

And Michael sees it in Jeremy too, in Gavin. In himself, when he looks in the mirror. This delicate, fragile thing Michael’s still afraid to give a name to in the quiet moments. 

Times when it’s Michael and all the doubts and concerns come crowding in before one of the others pull him out of his head. Reminds him that he’s not alone in those doubts and concerns, that they’re working at breaking them down together.

There are missteps and misunderstandings here and there the way there is in any new relationship. Learning the ins and outs of each other and the ways they fit together, the little quirks and oddities that make them the person they are three times over.

Little snags and snarls and obstacles they learn to navigate together, slow and careful and all moving in the right direction.

And there are moments when everything seems to come together almost effortlessly. When things are easy between them and nothing seems out of reach.

It’s not perfect, this thing the four of them have, but perfection is overrated anyway.


End file.
